Time After Time
by Lennie2
Summary: The Time Lord equivalent of the CIA inform the Doctor that Adric's death was due to the Master meddling with true time. Can the Doctor rescue his young friend and are things just a little too simple ...?
1. Default Chapter

TIME AFTER TIME

Author: Elanor 

Beta: Angela

Feedback - yes please. I'm begging! Oh come on, this is my first Doctor Who story!

Author's note: This is in the way of catharsis. I was 14 when Adric died and it affected me – probably because my mum died that year too. Through the years I always wanted to write an Adric story for two reasons: to redress the balance against this companion who seems to be so disliked - to show the positive Adric, my Adric; and to explore just why the Doc could not go back in time for him.

Note on names: So as not to give the game away, if anyone is interested in the derivation of the agents' names, please see separate chapter entitled Names. I didn't want to give the game away here!

Disclaimer: Doctor Who, the TARDIS and lots of other things are copyright of the BBC. I make no profit from this story.

Things had settled into a routine. The three companions travelled to many spectacular destinations in that time: Ancient Egypt where they sailed down the Nile past the Great Pyramid and to the Court of Henry VIII for a banquet but they also spent time just being together, trying to heal the wounds left by their friend's death. After her initial disbelief and anger at the Doctor's refusal to go back in time, Tegan began to realise just how much Adric's demise had affected the Time Lord. She could see it in unguarded moments when he seemed to just stare into space and in the long sleepless nights when she would find him pacing the Cloister Room.

After a morning shopping at the Dome, an enormous intergalactic shopping mall which stretched for 25 miles, they materialised for a lazy afternoon in the Yorkshire Dales. Nyssa and the Doctor were currently engaged in a ferocious game of chess. Tegan glanced up from the game as a familiar sound penetrated the meadow, the keening whine of a TARDIS, which was followed by the materialisation of a huge oak tree. The tree looked every bit as organic and alive as the oak trees she had climbed in the park behind her grandfather's house. She could hear the wood creaking, the leaves rustling. That was impressive enough but a few seconds later the leaves changed colour, from lush green to gold and russet to perfectly blend in with the season. She cast an almost pitying glance back at their own TARDIS and heard the Doctor mumble, "That's just showing off."

The trunk of the tree split open and two men stepped out of the aperture and strode towards where they were sitting. They wore identical black suits of severe tailoring, dark sunglasses and an elaborate collar ruff which swept behind their heads. "You are the Time Lord known as the Doctor?" asked the taller man, removing his sunglasses.

"I am indeed. How do you do?" The Doctor proffered his hand which was ignored.

"I am Agent Atropos," the first man continued and flipped open a hand-held identification device. "This is Agent Lachesis."

"Does that thing self-destruct in ten seconds?" Tegan asked. Agent Atropos's uncompromising gaze snapped to her and she reared back in her chair slightly at such a cold, clinical inspection – she felt like a bacterium being studied in a laboratory.

"Identify your companions, Doctor."

"Oh, certainly," the Doctor flustered. "This is Tegan Jovanka and this is Nyssa."

"I can speak for myself, Doc, thank you," Tegan snapped. "Who the hell are you guys and what's with the Mission Impossible routine?"

The Doctor intervened, flashing his best boyish grin placatingly. "You must excuse Tegan, she's from Earth," he said, with the same tone that Basil Fawlty adopted when he told people Manuel was from Barcelona. "What can we do for you, gentlemen?"

"We are agents of the CIA," agent Atropos said, as if that made everything clear.

"The Celestial Interference Agency," the Doctor explained to his companions.

"Intervention," Atropos corrected.

"Sorry, intervention. The Time Lord equivalent of the FBI. They monitor the time stream and interfere – ah, intervene where they deem the Laws of Time have been broken. Listen, gentlemen, if it's about Romana, it's the funniest thing. You see, we were on our way back to Gallifrey in response to the summons when we were sucked into E-space through a CVE and – "

"We are aware of Romanadvoratrelundar's current situation."

"Of course you are. Silly of me."

"We require your compliance with regard to another matter," Agent Atropos stated, making it sound like an ultimatum. Agent Lachesis remained silent, as immovable as a statue; Tegan fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him. Atropos laid a slimline briefcase on the table next to the chess game and flipped it open to reveal some sort of keypad. His fingers danced across the keys and suddenly a 3D hologramatic image filled the air before them. The image appeared to be frozen like a video on pause, but it showed the TARDIS above a planet which, to Tegan, looked vaguely like Earth until she noted the formation of the continents was wrong.

"Pangaea," the Doctor murmured softly by her side, suddenly tensing.

"Is this recording taken from the TARDIS' memory banks?" Nyssa asked.

"Apparently," the Doctor said, although his eyes remained fixed on the hologram.

Atropos depressed a key and the image began to move. The camera panned to reveal another craft being sucked inexorably into the gravitational pull of the planet. Nyssa sprang to her feet, uttering a cry of denial as she finally recognised the image – the Cybermen's freighter burning up in the atmosphere of the prehistoric Earth.

The Doctor fumbled for the off switch and the image thankfully faded. His face was flushed with anger and grief. "There's no need for this. We know what happened."

"And we didn't break any of your precious Laws of Time either." Tegan turned her accusatory stare to the Doctor. This had been a bone of contention between them with Tegan unable to understand why the Doctor couldn't go back in time to rescue their friend. "Did we, Doctor?"

The Doctor shook his head, trying again to form the words that would help Tegan to understand. "I can't, Tegan, not even to save Adric. It goes against everything I believe in."

"Funny," the airhostess replied, "I thought you believed in loyalty. He was depending on us."

Nyssa squeezed Tegan's hand. "You're not helping."

"The Agency has satisfied itself that the Doctor is blameless in this matter," Atropos continued, unmoved by the companions' grief. "Nevertheless the Laws of Time have been transgressed."

The Doctor had already arrived at the same conclusion. He had an almost wry smile on his face. "Let me guess – the Master."

"Precisely. When our suspicions were first aroused, we analysed the data carefully and discovered the time traces of not one but two time vehicles; the second, as you surmised, belonging to the renegade known as the Master. He travelled back in time to change the outcome of this particular space-time event. In doing so he has flagrantly transgressed the First Law of Time and the timeline must be restored."

"May I?" The Doctor eagerly took Atropos's keypad and scrolled through the data. It was the most animated he had been since Adric's death. "Think! Why couldn't we save Adric?"

"Because you wouldn't let us go back in time," Tegan replied truculently, ignoring the flash of hurt in the Doctor's eyes.

Nyssa's reply was more constructive. "The fight with the Cyberleader in the Console Room caused too much damage to the controls. We couldn't materialise on board the freighter in time to rescue him."

"More than that. The controls were jammed." The Doctor was warming to his subject. "At the time I assumed the controls were frozen due to the damage sustained in the fight. I was wrong." He pointed at a string of formulae on the screen. "This proves the controls were jammed by an outside source – the Master. His TARDIS has always been more powerful and accurate than our poor old Type 40." He paused as he thought it through. "He must have monitored the original event and decided it presented him with a perfect opportunity for revenge."

"That's monstrous!" Tegan cried.

"Revenge is a dish best served cold," the Doctor quoted sadly. "He hates me so much. It wouldn't be the first time that he has jeopardised my companions to hurt me – he kidnapped Jo once." The Doctor gazed off into the distance, thinking of Adric and how much he had suffered because of the Master's all consuming hatred.

"He's destroyed everyone I ever loved," Nyssa said quietly. The Doctor seemed to take a moment to register her words then he put his arms round her a little awkwardly. While Agent Lachesis, still unspeaking, closed the keypad, Agent Atropos slid his sunglasses back in place and reached into his breast pocket to remove a flat circular object which he passed to the Doctor.

The Doctor raised his eyebrow. "This is the High Council's seal."

"The High Council, after consultation with the Agency on this matter, has granted you leave to restore the timeline." He stood up, regarding the three companions from down his long nose. "I will transfer the data relevant to the case to your TARDIS' memory banks. I bid you farewell, Doctor, ladies." With a dry bow, he walked back to his oak tree. Lachesis made to follow, hesitated, and moved the black knight on the chess board. "Checkmate," he said and turned to follow his counterpart.

Nyssa stared after the two as though she couldn't quite grasp what had happened. "Doctor? Are they serious? Can we really do it?" There were tears shining in her eyes, tears of hope.

The Doctor nodded and squeezed her shoulders. "Let's go and rescue our young friend, shall we?" The women eagerly tipped the chess pieces back into the box and dismantled the table in a matter of seconds, all but sprinting back into the TARDIS. The Doctor grinned at their enthusiasm and began to follow them. Something caught his eye on the ground and he stooped to pick it up – a white pawn that must have fallen off the table. He pocketed it hurriedly as Tegan stuck her head round the door and demanded to know why he was dawdling.

The Doctor had set the co-ordinates and the TARDIS had arrived at its destination. All that remained was for the Time Lord to hit the materialisation sequence to bring the TARDIS out of its holding pattern in the time vortex. He was, however, staring distractedly at the remains of Adric's Badge cupped in his hand.

"Doctor?" Tegan prompted when she couldn't stand the tension any more. "Are you going to materialise or not?"

"What?" He glanced at her as if noticing her for the first time. He drew in a deep breath. "There's something distinctly wrong here," he pronounced, "I can feel it."

Tegan exchanged a worried glance with Nyssa then ploughed in. "Who cares? We have a gold-plated invitation by the High Council to rescue Adric." She shifted uncomfortably. "Listen, if you're having second thoughts, I'll …" She couldn't think of anything suitably threatening to say. She relived those last few moments on the freighter before the Cyberleader had marched her away from her friend. She took his arm. "This is for Adric. Adric!"

The Doctor met her gaze and she saw her own self-recrimination and guilt mirrored in his.

"Every waking moment I think of what I did to him," he said quietly. He glanced once more at the Badge then slipped it into his pocket. Making the decision seemed to energise him because he strode round the console to pick up his space suit's helmet. "Do you both know what to do?"

"You've been over it a million times," Tegan said, her nervousness coming out in anger as usual. Nyssa frowned at her and she gave a half-shrug of apology. "Sorry, Doc."

He waggled his finger at her, dropping into lecture mode. "The mission relies on split second timing, remember. 4 minute 18 seconds to be precise. That is when the pressure will become too great to sustain life. Any longer than that and Adric …" He trailed off uncomfortably.

"At lease we're giving him a fighting chance," Tegan muttered truculently.

"Anyway, once we materialise, I'll attempt to find Adric." He held up the bio-sign tracker which he had cobbled together to aid his search. "You two will remain here. On no account – "

"- Are we to follow. Roger."

The Doctor adjusted the oxygen for a second time as he said, "And if I don't return?"

"The co-ordinates are pre-set," Nyssa said briskly as though she were reading from a technical manual. "I dematerialise the TARDIS which will take us to Gallifrey for safety."

"Good, good." The Doctor ran his hands over the console and then began flicking switches to initiate the materialisation sequence. Nyssa moved to man the viewscreen, a stop watch in her hand. Tegan who was to see to the doors noted that her friend's hand shook only slightly.

The time rotor slowed. Split second timing, Tegan reminded herself as she watched it stop completely. She depressed the door release and the Doctor with a deep breath strode through. She immediately transferred her gaze to the viewscreen and wished she hadn't: the flight deck was an inferno.

"Time starts now," Nyssa said crisply.

The Doctor sucked in a breath and held his hands up in front of his face instinctively. Dropping an emergency flare as a marker, he clambered over a ceiling strut and plunged through the fire's heart, knowing the suit would protect him. He held his gadget up, closing his eyes in relief as it beeped shrilly, indicating there was life very close. He moved off. The freighter gave a massive downward jerk and he lost the gadget and his footing, slipping and sliding through the debris until he hit something solid – the dead body of a Cyberman.

"Adric!" he yelled and immediately thought how stupid it was. If the Alzarian was even conscious, he wouldn't be able to hear over the engine's sawing whine. He squinted but couldn't see anything through the thickly rising smoke. The suit's readout informed him the freighter's pressure was passing beyond critical.

It was then he heard the scream. With renewed energy and hope, he struggled to his feet and saw Adric. He was hunched against the side of the main console, holding his hands over his ears. The Doctor caught him, slammed the spare helmet over his head and hefted him over his shoulder in one move. He glanced at the timer – almost out of time. Again. He saw the flare guiding him to the TARDIS through the choking smoke, and pushed against the door. A moment later Tegan was dragging them both inside.

"Nyssa!" he called and his companion hit the dematerialisation sequence.

"You made it!" he heard Tegan say but his only concern was for Adric.

He pulled off his own helmet and pressed his fingers against the other's neck: a pulse, weak and thready but definitely there. Tegan made to remove the Adric's helmet but he stopped her. "It's feeding him oxygen. Leave it on for now."

"Is he all right?" Nyssa asked, her face paling at the burns evident on her friend's hands.

The Doctor shook his head non-committaly. "Let's get him to the medical unit."

The Doctor glanced over at the monitor display, reassured himself that Adric's vital signs were stable, and returned to Adric's Badge which he was painstakingly reconstructing. Nyssa came in with a cup of tea. "How is he?"

The Doctor fiddled with the fragments. "Oh, fine, fine," he said vaguely.

"Then what is wrong?"

He made the mistake of glancing up; Nyssa's eyes were very candid. He sighed deeply and switched on a monitor. "These are the system files from the Starliner." He offered a wry smile. "As a social essay they are absolutely fascinating. Very autocratic, very by the book – literally."

"Yes, Adric told me about the Great Book Room."

"There was a Manual for everything. I even found one on how to chew your food."

Nyssa smiled dutifully. "Please tell me, Doctor."

He perched his glasses on his head. "I read through them earlier. I was rather hoping they would provide some answers as to why he isn't recovering."

"You said he suffered massive lung and organ damage." Nyssa glanced uncomfortably at the ventilator which was currently breathing for him.

"True, but Alzarians heal quickly. Do you remember when he twisted his ankle in 17 century Earth? It took less than 10 minutes for the leg to heal completely – and believe me it was a nasty fall." The Doctor stared thoughtfully at the medical displays. "His lungs were seriously damaged but not beyond the capability of the instruments to heal. He should have returned to consciousness by now, he should be able to breathe on his own too. Frankly it's due to the continual intervention of the autodoc that he is holding his own, never mind progressing."

"I see." Nyssa noticed the Badge under the powerful magnifying glass. "What are you doing?"

Her companion spared her an irritated glance. "What does it look like I'm doing, dear girl?" he said, a touch of the first Doctor coming out. "Trying to mend his Badge."

"But surely you do not have all the pieces."

"Mmmm?" The Doctor was picking up a microscopic sliver with a pair of tweezers. "Ah, well I'm having to use new gold to patch it where necessary." He tipped her a wink before returning to his fiddly work.

"I know he will appreciate it when he wakes up." Nyssa sat on the bed and, a little awkwardly, took Adric's hand in hers, careful of the shiny syntheskin that was covering the burns. "He looks so vulnerable," she murmured almost to herself.

"Why don't you go to bed? I'll call you both if there is any change."

Nyssa felt the tears sting. She had left her father only for a few minutes and in that time he had been kidnapped and brutally murdered – she didn't want to leave Adric. The Doctor seemed to sense her concern for he said gently: "This is a sophisticated medical unit. If anything can save him, it's the TARDIS. You're not going to help him by collapsing from exhaustion. I will call you if his condition changes."

"You won't leave him?" she said almost fiercely.

"I won't leave him." Nyssa released Adric's hand and, blushing a little, kissed his pale cheek. The Doctor returned to his painstaking reconstruction work.

It had been Nyssa's suggestion that one of them should remain at Adric's bedside until he recovered. "Don't ask," Tegan said shortly when the Doctor arrived for his stint, and jabbed him in the ribs with the book she had been reading out loud. Once the air hostess had left, the Doctor checked a few monitors, mentally reviewing Adric's progress: after nearly two days, the ventilator had finally been removed since the instruments showed that Adric was able to breathe for himself, and all his internal organs were functioning normally. The Doctor, however, was still concerned over Adric's condition. Physically he appeared to be making steady, if markedly slow, progress but mentally he appeared to have given up. Scans revealed no brain damage but he still had not regained consciousness; indeed he seemed to be slipping further and further into unconsciousness. It was as if Adric had emotionally given up or accepted his death.

Sighing, the Doctor made himself comfortable in the chair. Adric habitually sucked in data; he was curious about anything and everything from Chaos Theory to Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. He read extensively and avidly, his thirst for facts never satisfied. Tegan, characteristically, had refused to read out dry mathematical theorems, opting instead for 'The Hobbit' which she said her grandfather had read to her when she had German measles. The Doctor balanced his spectacles on his nose and began chapter six. He had got no further than a page or so when he let the book fall closed. He again regarded Adric, feeling the now familiar pang of guilt and concern.

"Perhaps you'd like to hear about the Ogrons?" When Adric didn't immediately stir into consciousness, the Doctor sighed. "No, perhaps not." He adjusted the IV feeding his patient nutrients. "Tegan and Nyssa are worried about you – as am I." He coughed uncomfortably. Emotions were not his strong suit, never had been. He stroked back Adric's hair and said quietly, almost unwillingly, "I never told you, did I? How proud I was of you, how I admired your loyalty and strength." A smile touched the corners of the worry. "Of course, you drove me up the wall sometimes too." The smile faded. "I'm sorry. I should never have allowed you to stay on that freighter, there had to be another alterative."

As though the Doctor's confession had triggered something, Adric gave a soft moan and the monitors registered a surge. The Doctor gripped his hand, both his hearts pounding. "Adric? Come on, fight. You can do it, fight."

Adric's eyes fluttered. "Now I'll never know if I was right," he murmured then he gave a sigh and slipped into peaceful, healing sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Nothing felt right. Adric fondled his Badge which the Doctor had given him upon returning to consciousness and wished that his shattered thoughts could be so easily mended. He had assume in the first few days that the sense of detachment and dislocation would sort itself out. The Doctor had explained how the Master had gone back in time to engineer Adric's death and how the Doctor had restored the time line by rescuing him.

Travelling with the Doctor always held some element of risk but he had always felt safe and nurtured. The Doctor might bumble and panic but even faced with the end of the world there had always been the deep conviction that everything would turn out all right: things might get hairy and a little too close for comfort but the Doctor would always win through in the end. This time, however, Adric really had been just precious seconds away from an agonising death. Perhaps his sense of detachment was nothing more than a reaction to the nearness of his escape.

Added to that was the erratic behaviour of his companions: Tegan seemed to be making a stupendous effort to like him, spending time with him, asking him never-ending questions about his home planet and its culture and even reading a few mathematical text books. It was rather pleasant, interacting with the woman without it dissolving into a silly quarrel and, ruefully, he admitted that he had underestimated Tegan's intelligence before. He found he liked listening to her practical observations and fanciful stories of life on her father's farm and was beginning to understand her witty put-downs for what they were – a defence mechanism. She was becoming less the bossy interloper whose presence he resented and more the big sister. He had always got along well with Nyssa, debating obscure principles and theorems for hours, but since his rescue she seemed to be shadowing his every move, enquiring after his health and continually telling him to take it easy. As for the Doctor, most of the time the Time Lord treated him as normal but every now and then, in unguarded moments, Adric caught his companion studying him as though he were a particularly knotty problem.

He needed to sort this out but he didn't know how. On the Starliner there had been manuals on everything; there was probably one on what to do if you beat death. He'd like to read it. He needed irrefutable facts like a mathematical equation not thorny emotions. The Doctor was messing with a panel on the Console. He seemed to spend all his time adjusting this or repairing that. A shower of sparks had him rearing back, a slightly offended look on his face. Perhaps the Doctor could help. If it were a case of a Dalek invasion or a Mara coiling in his mind, Adric knew the Doctor would be able to help – he'd trust him implicitly. But with emotions, he wasn't sure – even if he could organise his uneasiness into words. He knelt next to him and the Doctor passed him a sonic cutter, muttering something about reversing the polarity of the neutron flow which sounded like typical Doctor gobbledegook.

"What are you doing anyway?" he asked after a respectful silence. This felt more normal, helping the Doctor, a meeting of minds.

"I thought I detected some sort of temporal anomaly."

The Doctor clicked his fingers and Adric obediently passed him the cutter. "Polyonic energy is all very well but it does tend to need a bit of expert attention every few centuries." He flashed him a boyish grin and prodded at a few strands of fibre-optic cable.

"Doctor? Can I talk to you?" He shifted nervously, still not sure what to say.

"Self expression doesn't appear to be one of your problems, Adric. Magnetic clamp."

"Here. It's just I don't feel … normal." He gazed round the room, at the familiar instrumentations and TARDIS roundels and felt a stranger here where once the TARDIS had welcomed him.

"Mmmm?" The Doctor had his head buried deep in the recessed panel. "Only to be expected. A certain amount of relief and trepidation after such a narrow escape is only to be expected. If I had my sonic screwdriver, this would be so much easier. I really should find time to make a new one; very handy piece of equipment."

"I feel like …" He struggled to find the words – any words – to describe the detachment, the sense of disorientation. "I feel …"

The Doctor however was absorbed in his tinkering. "Can you get your hand in here? No, there. That's it."

Adric twisted onto his stomach, assuming the slight wave of dizziness that assailed him was due to having to shift into such a strange position. He pressed his hand into the required mass of cables. "Are you even listening to me?" he asked impatiently.

The Doctor extracted his head to give him an affronted look then he saw the unusually worried expression on his friend's face. He put down his tools and leaned back against the console. Adric, reassured, sat next to him. "It takes time, Adric, that's all. You had a traumatic experience."

"Are you sure that's all it is?"

"You very nearly died on the freighter. It's never easy to be confronted with death. I can empathise, I assure you. Each time I regenerate, I die, for a moment only, but I am aware of Death's icy grip."

Adric suddenly had to blink back tears. "Everything feels so wrong."

There was a loud bang and the panel they had been working on flew across the floor. "Well, there's definitely something wrong with that," the Doctor stated.

"Where are we anyway?" Tegan asked.

"The Eye of Orion. One of my favourite places. Quiet, uninhabited, no adventures guaranteed."

"Can I have that in writing?" Tegan asked sweetly.

The Doctor chose to ignore that. "I thought we could all do with a change of pace." He hefted the picnic basket he and Adric were carrying. "And what better than a pleasant ramble followed by a picnic?"

Nyssa nodded thoughtfully and then asked, "What's a picnic?"

It should have been pleasant. The river reminded Adric of the Alzar that had flowed by the Starliner on Alzarius. A wave of homesickness hit him as he realised he'd never see his home world again. Everything here was green – indeed most planets' fauna tended to be green - whereas Alzarius' had been red and yellow and blue.

They found a convenient spot and the Doctor and Tegan spread out the blanket. The other two watched bemusedly for it appeared almost like some sort of ritual. Finally Nyssa spoke up.

"Is this picnic some sort of religious rite to appease a god?"

Tegan snorted with laughter. "Yes, Yogi Bear."

The Doctor grinned but waggled his finger at her. "No Nyssa, Earth people just like picnics."

Adric looked over at his friends and again felt that sense of detachment. Not petty like they were excluding them from their conversation, since they certainly weren't, but as though there was a chasm between them. Their voices sounded funny too like voices did when he swam under water.

"Adric? Try this, it's called a sausage roll."

Adric pulled his attention back to the Doctor. He tried to take the offering but his fingers seemed to go through thin air. He gave a frightened gasp. The Doctor grasped his arm and the contact was very welcome.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. Dizzy."

"Put your head between your knees," Tegan suggested unhelpfully.

"I can't hear you, you're distorting, fuzzy. I don't feel like I'm here."

The Doctor was checking his pulse. "Your pulse is erratic. Has this happened before?"

"It's been like this since you rescued me. I told you."

"Come on, let's get back to the TARDIS."

Adric was hauled to his feet; he staggered and Nyssa put her arm round him too. She suddenly pulled away with a horrified gasp. "Look Doctor!"

But the Doctor had noticed – Adric was fading, disappearing before their very eyes.

"What the hell is it?" Tegan asked.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Interesting! Some sort of temporal anomaly."

The anomaly seemed to grow worse for a few minutes, until all that remained of Adric was a vague blur of yellow and green then the moment passed and he returned to normal, staggering and falling. "What happened, Adric?" Nyssa asked, kneeling next to him and chafing his hands between her own; they were freezing cold and her friend was trembling, obviously shaken by the experience.

"I don't know," the Alzarian answered, "you were fading away."

"We were?" Tegan asked, managing to sound both worried and offended. "Speak for yourself."

Immediately they reached the sanctuary of the TARDIS, Adric seemed to recover. His colour returned and within just a few minutes his pulse had normalised. "I'm really alright," he told Tegan for the second time when she continued to hover over him. "I'm not made of glass, you know."

"Ha! A few minutes ago I could see right through you." She glanced over at the Doctor who was lost in thought, patting his rolled hat against his chin. "So, what was it anyway?"

"Mmmm? Oh, probably just the time line correcting itself. The Master's meddling with true time will have caused quite a few blips, I imagine. The TARDIS exists outside of the time stream so it will help to nullify the effects until matters stabilise." While the two women fussed over Adric, the Doctor returned to his preoccupation, a worried frown settling on his face.

Adric found he couldn't sleep that night. His dreams were disturbing. He watched himself dying on the freighter, hearing his own screams as his eardrums burst, seeing his own skin blister from the enormous heat and feeling his own tortured gasps for oxygen. And through the nightmare was the sense of someone else observing his death, watching and waiting – a man dressed in black: the Master, he assumed.

Perhaps a walk round the Cloister Room would ease his thoughts and help him to sleep. Shrugging into his dressing gown, he stole past the girls' room and the Doctor's, knowing full well that if any of his companions caught him creeping about at that time of night they'd send him straight back to bed.

When he arrived, he noticed the Doctor sitting at an elaborately carved stone table, apparently setting out a game of chess. For a moment he had to close his eyes for he remembered the last Doctor in this room; and it occurred to him with shocking strength that however much he liked this Doctor, he would never see the toothy grin, the wild eyes and the silly scarf again. "It's even more fun with two," he said.

The Doctor appeared to rouse from deep thought. "Adric! Mmmm? Oh, yes, definitely – do take a seat. You can be white." Then he frowned. "You should be in bed, young man."

Adric flashed his familiar cheeky grin. "So should you."

"Touché." The Doctor returned to his contemplation of the chess board, his vague preoccupation doing nothing to relieve Adric's own feelings of unease. "I needed some peace and quiet."

"There's a piece missing. A white pawn."

"Mmmm?" Again the Doctor appeared to have to wrench his mind back. Then he grinned and, with the air of a conjuror, produced the white pawn from his pocket. Adric forbore from asking how it had ended up in his companion's voluminous pockets. They played a few moves but it was a rather lacklustre game for neither of them appeared able to concentrate. Adric had lost his queen and his king was being harassed by the Doctor's two knights – or should have been but the Time Lord made an ill-thought out move, resulting in the loss of one of them.

While Adric was mapping out his next strategy, the Doctor tweaked at a piece of trailing ivy and smiled round at the decaying arches and worn flagstones. "I've always liked this room."

"I remember. I found you here just before we went to Logopolis." He studied the board and made his move, taking one of the Doctor's pawns and manoeuvring to take his castle (which the Doctor insisted on calling a rook, for some unfathomable reason).

"Tell me, Adric, what do you think of the Master's plot to kill you?"

He frowned; he should have been surprised by the question but discovered he was not. "It's logical. He's sprung complicated traps before – and used me as bait," he added with a touch of guilt. Castrovalva had been a trap within a trap with Adric the helpless bait at the centre, ensnared in a cruel web and forced through excruciating pain to do the Master's bidding.

The Doctor was watching him closely. "But?"

"There's something fish-like about it."

The Doctor's eyes twinkled briefly although the worry didn't leave his face. "Fishy. Tegan's been teaching you Earth expressions, I see. I'll tell you what's fishy too – the Master isn't about logic, he's about passion and hatred. He wants me dead, I'll give you that, but he wants to watch me suffer. He needs to witness my pain."

Adric thought it through. "When he forced me to track the TARDIS to Event One, he sent you a message to gloat – it was awful. I thought I'd killed you."

"Gloat!" The Doctor clicked his fingers in Adric's face. "That's it, you've hit the nail on the head – that's another expression, Adric – he needs to be able to gloat over his supremacy, see me writhe and beg for mercy. He didn't so much as contact me."

"Then if it wasn't the Master who went back in time to change history, who did?"

The Doctor stared at Adric for a moment as if his whole world had caved in then he seemed to pull himself together. "Later. You should go back to bed."

"What about the game?"

"No arguments."

Once his young friend had departed with some mutinous grumbling, the Doctor looked down at the chess board and noticed that in their joint preoccupation, they had missed the fact that the white king was in check.

The Doctor hesitated in opening the door; he looked as if he were going to say something, apparently changed his mind and, cramming his hat on, led the way. That morning he had announced over breakfast his intention of travelling to Gallifrey to seek some answers regarding the Master's meddling. No sooner had the company left the TARDIS than Agent Atropos stepped forward. As a concession to the gravity of the moment, he had adopted a sweeping cape over his sombre suit. Behind him in the reception hall stood the ever-impassive Lachesis and a small number of guards standing to rigid attention.

"Quite the welcoming committee," the Doctor noted, not sounding particularly surprised. "I take it you were expecting us?"

Atropos bowed dryly, a mere formality. His cold stare lingered on Adric and, a little intimidated, he drew closer to the Doctor. "Welcome to Gallifrey, Adric of Alzarius. I am delighted to see you – and in one piece. If you and your companions will follow me, Doctor?"

"And if we refuse?" Tegan asked sweetly but Atropos ignored her, sweeping out of the reception hall with a whirl of his cape. The guards manoeuvred into position, a pair flanking each of the companions.

As they were marched to their destination, the Doctor filled the icy silence with idle chit-chat, spinning tales for his companions and purposefully pausing every now and then to point out some tourist attraction. "And that building over there is the Senate House. I wonder how Leela and Andred are getting on? I'll have to make time to pop over and see them." He grinned at Tegan. "You'll like Leela, she has a forthright nature. And of course I'll have to introduce you to K9 mark 1, Adric." He stopped short, causing the impassive guards to nearly bump into him. He flashed them a disarming grin. "Aren't we going to the Capitol, Atropos? It's that way." When he made an abortive step in that direction, the two guards nearest him closed ranks and fingered their weapons pointedly. "I'll take that as a no."

"Where are you taking us then?" Nyssa asked.

Atropos was showing the first signs of irritation at the Doctor's obvious stalling tactics. "That information is restricted. This way, please."

"Oh certainly, certainly." He'd gone no more than a few feet when he stopped again and grinned impishly. "Dash it all, if my shoelace hasn't come undone."

They were seated in a conference room of some sumptuousness: the chairs were gilded, the floor was laid with a deeply-piled, hand woven carpet, and pompous texts in Old High Gallifreyan hung from the walls. At the head of a table, framing the throne-like chair assumed by Atropos, was a frowning portrait of Rassilon. Adric kept glancing up at it uneasily for its eyes seemed to follow you round the room.

"I assume, Doctor, that we can dispense with the fabrication of the Master's involvement in this matter?" Atropos asked sardonically, evincing no guilt.

"Yes, it was a very neat deception I have to admit. Had me almost convinced."

"A necessary ruse, I assure you. Observe." Atropos opened his ever-present briefcase and tapped keys. An image appeared on the gilt-framed viewscreen, that of a planet slowly revolving against a backdrop of stars.

"Very pretty, Patrick Moore," Tegan said and the Doctor snorted with laughter, having to hide it with a cough.

"This recording was taken by Gallifrey's satellite last month." The camera panned behind the planet, magnifying a section of stars. Everything seemed normal until the stars appeared to wobble and distort.

"Ah," the Doctor said, "a CVE."

Ignoring Tegan's tactless reminder that they already knew, Atropos dryly explained how Logopolis had created the CVEs through Block Transfer to preserve the universe beyond natural heat death. Upon Logopolis' destruction, the computations were transferred to the Pharos Project on Earth.

"We know," Tegan repeated for the third time, "What has this got to do with us?"

The Doctor had borrowed a nearby computer monitor and was checking data. He gave a wry smile. "So that's it," he said quietly. "Your CVE's malfunctioning. Oh dear."

"Precisely, Doctor. Based on the data compiled by the Astrology Department, the CVE will close down completely in 41.2 time units. At that point, tachyon radiation will increase by 69, gamma by 39."

"A planetary eco-system is not capable of resisting that level of radiation," Nyssa said.

Atropos turned his flat gaze on the Doctor. "You remain remarkably composed considering your planet is in imminent danger of destruction."

The Doctor cast a glance at Nyssa whose own home planet had been destroyed by entropy. "Gallifrey hasn't been my home for many years."

Adric suddenly spoke up. "That's why you engineered my rescue, isn't it? To save your planet."

Atropos nodded. "We need your mathematical skill. Understand, the preservation of Time Lord society is the Agency's only concern."

"I thought the Agency's only concern was the preservation of true time," the Doctor said.

The agent's gaze swung to his countryman. "Surely the same thing."

The Doctor raised his eyebrow innocently. "Is it?"

"Why Adric?" Nyssa asked, more to pacify their captors than anything else. "Can't your own mathematicians help?"

"Negative. The knowledge necessary is very specialised; namely Block Transfer."

What about the Monitor of Logopolis?"

"Logopolis is a hive society, the Monitor would not have been able to survive without the presence of his counterparts." Atropos gave a brief, cold smile. "I assure you we calculated the odds most carefully."

The Doctor scraped back his chair noisily, his face flushed with anger. "Come along, you three. We're leaving." He chivvied Nyssa to her feet, Tegan and Adric following obediently, and strode for the door. The guards, to no-one's surprise, blocked their exit. The Doctor held up his hands in surrender and began to back away. He met Tegan's gaze and nodded: as the nearest guard relaxed his vigil, allowing his weapon to lower ever so slightly, the Doctor grabbed it and yanked it from his fingers. Simultaneously, Tegan stamped her 6 inch heel on the second guard's booted foot and, as he doubled over in pain, jammed her elbow into his neck, making him fall to the ground. The Doctor covered the guards and the still silent Lachesis with his requisitioned weapon.

"Gentlemen, I really must insist on your moving away from the door," he said politely. "Thank you so much." He was about to usher his three friends through when the wall two inches from his face exploded. Atropos stepped forward, revealing a small but powerful laser in his hand. He pointed it coldly at Tegan and Nyssa. The Doctor quickly stepped in front of his two friends, shielding them.

"We will not do what you want, Atropos," he said, drawing Atropos's attention away from Adric who had crept up behind the agent. The Alzarian yanked the portrait of Rassilon off the wall and smashed it over the agent's head; he collapsed immediately.

"I didn't like it anyway," Adric stated cheekily. The Doctor stopped outside the closed door, fumbling in his pockets. He produced a paperclip, flipped open the door control and short circuited the mechanism, effectively sealing Atropos and the guards within. As they ran down the corridor, obeying the Time Lord's rather breathless directions, the Doctor bent close to Adric and said with a grin, "You do realise that portrait was painted by the Lord President?"

After they had run down a fair number of identical-looking corridors, they came to a long gallery which looked like a Gothic church with its looming arches, stained glass windows and heavy columns. They heard footsteps scurrying and quickly hid behind the nearest pillar. The Doctor poked his head out, checked the coast was clear, but indicated for his friends to stay concealed. He crept over to the nearby door and depressed the sensor. "As I thought," he muttered half to himself, "Atropos has had all the exits sealed." He fumbled in his pocket for his paperclip but remembered he had left it in the last door's mechanism. Another troop of guards led by the voluble Lachesis had him leaping for cover behind the column with his companions. Eventually the danger passed and he began emptying his pockets, tipping the contents into Nyssa's hands.

"Hurry up, Doc. We're wasting time."

The Time Lord spared Tegan a glare. "Think, what could we use!"

"What about my Badge?" Adric whispered.

"The catch isn't long enough. There's no help for it. Tegan, I'll have to use the wire in your ah undergarment."

"What!" Nyssa exclaimed incredulously.

"Her bra."

"Hey, I'm not stripping off my bra in front of you two."

"Oh, get on with it," the Doctor rapped impatiently. "It's not like I haven't seen it all before."

Adric whirled away, his cheeks flaming and his hand held over his eyes as though he expected to spontaneously combust. The Doctor turned round too. "We promise we won't look, Tegan. Hurry."

After a few minutes of shuffling, Tegan produced the required, rather lacy article, her chin raised defiantly as if daring anyone to laugh. The Doctor, intent on his mission, removed the wire as if asking his friend to remove her lingerie was nothing out of the ordinary, pocketed the bra absently and tripped the lock.

The Doctor now led them round the edge of an impressive columned courtyard that looked familiar.

"This is the Cloister Room," Nyssa accused as they hopped from the shelter of one column to the next. The Doctor had the grace to look sheepish.

"I always rather liked it here, I have to admit. When I ah acquired the TARDIS I programmed the architectural configuration unit with its dimensions." Adric suddenly caught hold of the Doctor's arm, leaning heavily against him. The Doctor was only just in time to prevent him from falling as a dizzy spell assailed him. The Alzarian pressed his hand to his chest, his breath coming out in laboured gasps. He was able to continue in just a few minutes but their progress was severely hampered by further attacks. While they were waiting for him to recover from a particularly alarming seizure where he had faded virtually to nothing, Tegan asked the Doctor something that had been troubling her.

"I don't understand, Doctor," she whispered. "Why can't you allow Adric to repair the CVE? Why can't we help these people?"

The Doctor had leaned against the pillar with Adric supported against him, covered in his coat. He was talking to him quietly, reassuring him. He looked up at Tegan. "You've not thought it through, young Tegan. Why did Atropos fabricate the story of the Master interfering?"

Tegan shifted impatiently; she hated it when the Doctor got obscure – she was sure he did it on purpose. And she hated it even more when he started with the 'young Tegan' thing. "To get us to save Adric. And personally I don't care what his motivation was, I'm just glad we did."

The Doctor waggled his finger at her. "More than that. Can you carry on, Adric? Well done." He moved off, one arm supporting the Alzarian. "To get us to go back in time and rescue Adric. They manipulated us, fed us a believable story and we fell for it – because we wanted to believe it." He threw her a significant look. "By rescuing Adric, we have entered an alternative reality – a false reality if you like."

"You're not suggesting … " Tegan trailed off, looking uncomfortably at Adric. "You don't mean to take him back there." She swallowed hard. "Back to the freighter?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. No use crying over spilt milk."

Nyssa arched an eyebrow snootily. "I am sure Tegan has no intention of emoting over upset dairy produce."

"I'm sorry," Adric said, "I'm being a nuisance."

The Doctor realised how much this matter was affecting his young friend. He lifted his chin, compelling him to make eye contact. "That's enough of that sort of talk, young Adric. What's done is done. I'm very glad to have you back."

They paused at a pair of immense, elaborately constructed gates. "Careful, don't touch them, they're electrified. This is the entrance to the Capitol's Garden. Strictly off-limits to everyone except the High Council but if we go through it we avoid the main thoroughfares." While the Doctor worked on the lock, with a few muttered curses, the three companions shifted nervously in the dusk light. More for something to do to take her mind off pursuit than real interest, Tegan asked, "So what are we going to do now?"

"Damage control. We can't do anything about Adric's presence – and he's only one person anyway - but we can ensure no further breaches occur in the time line. Ah, that's got the lock. Just need to short the power." He carried on fiddling, every now and then waving his arms about to highlight a particular point. "It's imperative the CVE is not repaired."

"So we're going back to the TARDIS?" Adric asked hopefully.

The Doctor flashed him a smile. "Almost there now, Adric. Ah, got it." He pushed against the gates but with the power shorted they wouldn't budge, even when the other three added their weight. Tegan gave an impatient sigh and began to give orders, making the Doctor cup his hands together so that he could boost her over the top.

While the Doctor was scrambling over, more difficult for him since he didn't have a leg-up, Nyssa looked round the Garden. It reminded her in some ways of the Grove on Traken although better tended. Boxed hedges neatly edged the formal beds which were set in a symmetrical pattern round the centre-piece of an enormous water feature. Mythical beasts twined, rising up out of the pool, water spurting from their mouths.

"This way." They skirted the beds, staying as low as possible, their pace much slower now as Adric's strength deserted him. The Doctor squinted in the poor light. Night had fallen now and the garden was unlit; only a pale moon illuminated the way. Adric staggered again, sinking to the floor, unable to go any further. He shimmered as he fought to remain on this plane of reality. The pain was excruciating.

The Doctor gripped his hand. "Concentrate, Adric! You can do it!" With a muttered apology, he slapped his face to keep him conscious. Tegan whimpered an objection but the Doctor ignored her. "Adric, what is the square root of 5603? Good. Stay with me. That's it. What's 67549 ÷ 125?"

The attack seemed to be easing although it had obviously been much stronger than the last ones. The Doctor immediately pulled Adric to his feet, and they continued their nightmare flight, the two women taking it in turns to support Adric's other side. "We're nearly there," the Doctor gasped, sounding on the verge of panic, but just a few moments later Adric began to fight for breath. "I can't breathe properly," he gasped.

The Doctor tipped him onto the floor, pressing his ear to his chest. Adric had lapsed into unconsciousness. His lips were tinged with blue. The Doctor slammed his hand hard on his sternum, tilted his head back and began to breathe for him. There was a crunching of gravel and Tegan looked up from Adric to see the two agents and a detachment of guards marching towards them. She swore quietly and put her hands up.

"So it has begun," Atropos murmured looking down at Adric and then said more loudly, "You are under arrest, Doctor."

"Well obviously." The Doctor didn't pause in his ministrations. "Give me your gun," he demanded of the nearest guard who stared stupidly at him. "The gun, the gun." He snapped his fingers and turned his keen gaze to Atropos. "Look, if I don't do something, your prize is going to die and then where will you be?"

"Of course," Nyssa exclaimed, "the gun can be adjusted to give a very low charge which should stimulate his heart."

"Right, I'll do that then," Tegan announced, taking charge. The Doctor looked across at her obviously unwilling to trust her. She glared at him. "Every moment you hesitate puts Adric in danger. I don't know how to alter the gun, you do. I do know how to resuscitate someone – standard air hostess training."

The Doctor nodded and swiftly swapped positions. While Tegan continued to breathe for Adric, he and Nyssa fumbled with the gun.

"Clear!" he said and Tegan moved away. He pressed the muzzle directly over his heart. He jabbed his fingers under his chin, feeling for a pulse. Another charge and Adric gasped and began to breathe normally. The Doctor slumped next to him, the adrenaline leaving his body all at once. "He's alright," he reassured his friends. "Adric's a fighter if ever I saw one."

"Excellent news," Atropos pronounced, "it would have been unfortunate had he died. This way please."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

The companions had been marched to the Agency where they had been split up. The women were escorted to an apartment which contained every luxury but, as Tegan said when she tried the door and found it locked, a gilded cage was still a cage. The Doctor was allowed to remain with Adric to oversee his recovery. They were then deposited in a vast, empty room which smelled of roses.

"A zero room," the Doctor said a little startled as the guards laid Adric down on the floor. "Of course, null interfaces!" A zero room cut off all interference and technology; it would nullify the temporal forces causing Adric's seizures.

"Precisely, Doctor," Atropos agreed. "You will be quite comfortable until Adric is recovered and can begin his work." He cast his dry gaze over Adric's form and went out, the door sealing behind him.

It was four or five hours later when Adric stirred to consciousness. The Time Lord stopped his pacing and knelt next to him. "Welcoming you back is becoming a habit," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Like the Starliner's parked on my chest."

"I'm not surprised." At Adric's look of confusion, he patted his shoulder. "You had to be resuscitated. The last attack caused cardiac failure."

"Great," Adric muttered, copying Tegan's tone. "This collapsing business is becoming tiresome." He began to struggle into a sitting position but the Doctor held him still.

"I wouldn't advise that. Your ribs are very bruised."

Adric flopped back, looking caved in and defeated. "I've never been ill before." Alzarians were a healthy race, their recuperative abilities meaning that they had eradicated most diseases. Being confronted with an illness was frightening. He winced as he tried to take too deep a breath and his ribs protested. The Doctor noticed but there was nothing he could do to help. Atropos had refused his request for medical supplies or painkillers – probably because he wanted to undermine Adric's willpower. To take his mind off the pain, the Doctor filled him in on recent events, reassuring him that Tegan and Nyssa were safe and explaining the properties of the zero room.

His words were interrupted suddenly by the door unsealing and the two agents entering. "I see that you are recovered, Adric," Atropos greeted him coolly while Lachesis looked on, as impassive and taciturn as always. "I'm delighted."

The Doctor leapt to his feet, in indignation and panic. "He's hardly that. He suffered a heart attack, Atropos. He needs rest."

Atropos turned his cold gaze to his countryman. "We are aware of Adric's regenerative physiognomy." Two guards stepped forward at the merest gesture from him. Adric scrambled to his feet and the Doctor stepped in front of him protectively, both of them backing away from the advancing guards until there was nowhere to go. The nearest guard caught Adric's arm but the Alzarian used a neat trick Tylos had shown him, sharply reversing the hold and giving the guard a friction burn.

"We've been through this – Adric will not help you."

"Yes he will. Too much is at stake for your tender sensibilities, Doctor."

"´Tender sensibilities?´ Oh, you mean ethics? The Agency's principles have always been rather elastic. What happened to your oath to preserve the true timeline, Atropos? Went out the window, eh, immediately your own, spoilt little existence was threatened. Gallifrey is subject to the same laws of cause and effect as the rest of the pitiful little planets that you enjoy looking down on. The CVE will close and Gallifrey will die. Face it, Atropos, even Rassilon couldn't give Time Lords immortality."

Atropos ignored him and methodically removed his dark glasses, giving them a polish before slipping them into his pocket. "You will co-operate, either willingly or not."

"Guess which," Adric spat. It was a short ugly fight but the two men were heavily outnumbered. While they caught their breath and the Doctor, with building panic, tried again to reach Atropos with his arguments, a wooden chair was dragged into the zero room by Lachesis. It looked like it belonged on Death Row with restraints welded to the armrests and legs. Adric found his gaze was transfixed by the monstrosity and he realised just how futile his courageous words and intentions were when faced with the reality of torture.

"This isn't necessary!" the Doctor blustered. "Don't you understand what you're doing? You're risking the very fabric of time with your meddling!"

Atropos exhibited the first signs of anger. "I know precisely what I am doing – fighting for my survival. You are quick to distance yourself from your home planet, Doctor, while still enjoying its benefits – like time travel. Millions of Gallifreyans will die when the CVE closes."

The Doctor tried to reach him, tried to remain calm and empathic. "I know and it's a tragedy. But hundreds of millions will die if the CVE doesn't close. You can't fight fate."

The two men glared at each other for a moment then Atropos looked away with a dismissive gesture and nodded to Lachesis. "Secure him." Once Adric had been strapped into the chair and the electrodes placed at his temples and over his chest, the Doctor having to be held back by three guards, Atropos crouched to the Alzarian's eye level. "You will not co-operate willingly? Even to save millions of people?"

Adric swallowed and tore his gaze away from Atropos's mesmerising stare. "I won't."

The pain began, at first nothing more than a slight tingling like touching an electrified cattle fence, but continued exposure soon became uncomfortable and then intolerable. He gritted his teeth.

"Be sensible, Adric. This is level one only," Atropos murmured, his sibilant words coiling inside Adric's mind. "The mind probe has ten levels; by level 10 your nerves will be shredded and you will be nothing more than a gibbering mass without motor or fine control of your body. Yet your intellect will remain and I will extract the computations from you. Your suffering will be for nothing."

The Doctor closed his eyes, trying to reach his friend telepathically to offer what comfort and support he could. At Atropos's gesture, Lachesis, with the detachment of a Spanish Inquisitor, turned the dial and, despite himself, Adric gave a gasp which soon turned into a steady moan.

"Level two."

Adric fainted. When he came round, someone was holding a drink to his lips. His first instinct was to flinch but then his blurry vision recognised the Doctor and he drank thirstily, tasting blood from where he had bitten the inside of his cheek. The Doctor stroked back his hair and he could see real despair and anguish in the Time Lord's eyes. He wanted to be brave, face the torment as he knew the Doctor would but the very idea of withstanding even a minute had him shaking violently. Two guards pulled the Doctor away, ignoring his impassioned pleas, and Adric looked up to meet Atropos's level gaze. He saw there an indomitable will that he could never beat.

Squeezing his eyes closed in an attempt to erase Atropos's face from his memory, he tried to marshal his thoughts, summon up anything to get him through the pain. He recited complex computations but that only served to remind him of why he was here. Then he thought about the Doctor, recalling all the good times and how much he owed his friend and mentor. If it hadn't been for the Doctor he would have been stuck on the Starliner, bored to the point of madness by the Deciders' worship of routine and tradition. He would never have seen N-Space, would never have gained such good friends as Romana and K9 and now Tegan and Nyssa.

The dial was twisted again and he gathered every ounce of resolve. This was how to pay the Doctor back and show him that, despite the odd major mistake, he had learned. The pain was becoming excruciating but he held on, forcing his memory to recall all the adventures that he had enjoyed: the fancy dress party, Mace and 17 century Earth, Monarch, beautiful peaceful Traken, the buzz of Logopolis as a thousand voices intoned the computations, Arco shrivelling to dust, the Marshmen.

Undeterred by his victim's opposition, Atropos had the dial turned to level three, and against this new wave of pure agony which lanced along his spine, there could be no resistance. Adric began to scream and once he had begun he found he couldn't stop.

"Stop! I'll do it!"

The pain dissipated and he wilted in the restraints, unable to think or react the relief was so great.

"We will begin the computations in one hour." So saying, Atropos slipped his dark glasses back into position and swept from the room, his entourage following. Adric flinched violently as the Doctor tore away the restraints, shying away like a whipped dog who expected more lashes. The Doctor released his wrist and he slumped forward into his arms.

Precisely one hour later, to the second, Atropos returned to escort Adric, with a voluble Doctor in tow, to the Astrology Department, having first given the mathematician a bracelet constructed out of zero material to guard against temporal seizures.

"Do you know it's been decades since I came this way," the Doctor announced, once again filling the silence with chatter as they walked through the Science Wing. He stopped dead by one particular room but this time the ever-present guards were ready for the move and avoided bumping into him. He read the bronze name plate on the door and flashed a boyish grin. "The Dimensional Reconfiguration Department – has a much better ring to it than 'TARDIS repair shop', don't you think?" Without waiting for a reply, he single-mindedly pushed inside, inspecting various instrumentation panels. Adric remained quietly by the door. "This is where I ahem acquired the TARDIS," the Doctor continued, picking up a small hand-held device which beeped at him. The occupants of the room cast him a few disapproving glances but continued with their work. He stopped before a sleek black object which looked something like a coffin except it was stood vertically. "Very impressive," he murmured, gesturing for Adric to have a look. He clapped him on the shoulder, frowning slightly when Adric flinched from the contact. "Do you know what this is?"

Adric stared at his feet. "No."

"A TARDIS!" the Doctor supplied, his deliberately jolly tone faltering for only a second at his companion's apathy. "The new Type 62 if I am not mistaken. They switch the chameleon circuit off when they are repairing them." Something caught his eye at one of the desks but before he could go over for a closer look, Atropos intercepted him.

"Have we quite finished?"

He matched the agent glare for glare. "I have – have you? The Astrology Department is this way, I believe. Shall we?"

Once Atropos had departed, Adric glanced round the Astrology Department, impressed despite himself. Banks of computers stood along three walls while the floor space was filled with gigantic tables strewn with charts, models and books. A digital telescope stood to one side rotating gently as it scanned and recorded the stars. It was the viewscreen that captured Adric's attention for it took up the whole of one wall from ceiling to floor and showed a 3D image of a starscape. He cast a look over his shoulder, noting the two guards ranged on either side of the door, looking bored but attentive: no chance of escape. He pulled up a chair at the desk, settled himself and began scribbling.

A few hours later and he was making progress. "45675 to the power of 9," he read aloud from his note pad while the Doctor entered his calculations into the computer. The mathematician rarely used a computer, partly in imitation of the Monitor of Logopolis who had always used paper and partly because his brain worked too quickly to input the calculations using a standard keyboard. "(r4566 x Tr45764). No wait, that can't be right. That unbalances the omega string." He sighed and rubbed tiredly at his temples, trying to ease the tension headache. He threw his notepad to the table, feeling the helplessness and defeat well up. "I shouldn't even be doing this!" he snapped.

"You had no choice," the Doctor pointed out after a pause.

Adric offered a cynical smile. He was a weakling, a coward. The pain had been intense but what was a few minutes discomfort compared to the health of the universe? He had failed the Doctor, Tegan and Nyssa, and ultimately everyone. He couldn't bare to look at the Time Lord. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, because he didn't know what else to say. "I should have been able to withstand the mind probe." He knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Doctor would rather have died than submit to Atropos.

The Doctor regarded his young friend, reading the self-loathing. "It's not your fault."

"Right." That was the problem – it was his fault. He'd messed up again. No wonder Varsh had lost patience with him and left him to form the Outlers – even his own brother knew he was a waste of time. And the Doctor; all the times when he had let the Time Lord down and acted like a total idiot: believing Monarch, using the TSS and nearly killing Aris – he hadn't even managed to save Earth from the freighter.

"Adric?" The Doctor's voice broke in on his thoughts.

"Don't. Please." It would be worse than shaming if he started to cry. He heard the Doctor's chair scrape back and suddenly his own was being forced round. He stared down at the Doctor's boots.

"Look at me. I said look at me. You're not a child so stop acting like one," the Doctor almost barked. "I don't like self-pity in anyone but I won't tolerate it from you, young man. You're far too much the fighter for that kind of rubbish."

"I failed you." He made the mistake of looking up at the Doctor, only to see an affectionate smile on the man's lips.

The Doctor perched on the table and waggled his finger at him. "Now you listen to me, young Adric: there was absolutely nothing you could have done to withstand the mind probe. Atropos would have reduced your brain to pulp and still extracted the information. This is not your fault." He prodded Adric's shoulder with his pencil for emphasis until Adric nodded and offered him a watery smile. "Much better. Let's get on then." He slid off the table, giving Adric's shoulders a squeeze on the way down. The mathematician reached for his pad, took a deep breath and continued.

The four reunited companions were waiting with various degrees of patience for Lachesis to return. The agent had taken Adric's completed computations to the main computer lab to run a series of simulations to ensure that the Block Transfer would work when it was finally uploaded. The door whooshed open and he crossed to Atropos, speaking to him briefly. Adric tried not to look nervous and crossed his fingers behind his back, something the old Doctor had taught him to do. Atropos approached, the merest hint of a smile on his gaunt face.

"Congratulations, Adric, the simulation has checked out. On behalf of all Gallifrey and Time Lord society – "

His arrogant words were cut short by Tegan. "We don't want your gratitude, you pompous windbag." She put her arm round Adric who tried not to look startled by her display of affection. "We just want off your stuck-up, holier than thou planet."

Atropos bowed frostily. "As you wish." He turned his dry gaze to the Doctor. "You and your female companions are at liberty to depart."

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Tegan would have launched herself at Atropos if the Doctor hadn't pulled her back, wrapping his arms round her until she calmed down.

"You had no intention of letting Adric go," Nyssa accused, her gentle features horrified.

"He was a tool, a mere utility."

"Funny," Tegan spat, "that utility just saved your planet!"

"The poor old pawn in a game of chess," the Doctor expanded, a cynical smile playing on his lips. "Adric is to be discarded without a thought, without a care, his usefulness over."

Atropos displayed not the slightest shade of guilt at his manipulations. "You are wrong in one respect, Doctor. I do take my oath to the CIA seriously. Now that Gallifrey's future has been safeguarded, it is my solemn duty to restore the true timeline in every other particular." His dead gaze swung to Adric.

"Typical Time Lord high-handedness," the Doctor began but trailed off with a sharp intake of breath as he realised the full import of the agent's words. "Absolutely not," he said, all colour draining from his face.

"What?" Tegan asked looking from the Doctor to Atropos and back again.

"He intends to restore time by taking Adric back in time to the freighter," the Doctor explained quietly.

Adric took a shocked step back, all his nightmares returning. "No," he murmured. "I can't."

The Doctor cast him a look although his attention was mainly fixed on Atropos who was watching the exchange with his usual disinterest. "It's alright, Adric. You're going nowhere. Not this time."

Atropos shook his head, his lip curling in a sneer. "You are a disgrace to Time Lord society, Doctor."

"If being an upstanding member means being like you, I am more than glad that I am a pariah."

Atropos ignored him and gestured for the guards to step forward. "I believe it is customary at moments like this for the condemned to say their farewells." He glanced at the guard. "Take them back to the zero room and guard them closely. If you will excuse me, ladies, gentlemen, I have a few matters to oversee. You have one hour."

"Don't just stand there, think of something!" Tegan snapped at the Doctor. He rounded on her, his own fear and frustration rearing up.

"The zero room is sealed and there are two heavily armed guards outside – what precisely do you suggest?"

"How should I know, I'm from Earth!" she spat back, throwing his own words back in his face. "You're the Time Lord with the centuries of wisdom!"

Nyssa intervened hastily. "You're not helping. Think logically. What can we do?"

"Nothing," Adric spoke for the first time since the news had been broken. "Perhaps Atropos is right."

The Doctor whirled round, his face flushed with anger. "Don't be ridiculous!" He paced round the room nervously, concocting and abandoning solutions. "Perhaps I could appeal to the High Council – no, that wouldn't work. If I could contact Leela - "

"We're running out of time," Tegan interrupted. "If we can't get out, can we get them to come in? Grab their guns or something?"

The Doctor glared at her. "That's the stupidest …" He stopped, a sudden grin transforming his face. "You know, it might just work." He turned to Adric impatiently. "Well, don't just stand there, you young fool," he snapped waspishly, "lie down."

"What …?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "You're going to fake an attack." He was rummaging in his pockets again, examining each object, discarding some, keeping others. "Here," he said absently to Tegan, passing her her bra. "I believe this is yours."

A few minutes later and they were ready. Tegan and Nyssa crouched down on either side of the door, a piece of string held taut between them across the door at ankle level. The Doctor pounded on the door, shouting and yelling until the guard unsealed the door suspiciously, his partner covering them with his gun.

"Help me, he's having another attack," the Doctor said urgently, indicating Adric who was rolling about the floor, groaning in agony.

"Atropos gave instructions –"

"If you don't help me, he'll die," the Doctor interrupted, "and then Atropos won't be able to take him back to true time. He's already starting to fade," he added untruthfully. On cue, Adric gave a gasp and held his hands to his throat, making dramatic choking noises. Then he flopped back and laid still. The Doctor leapt to his side immediately. "He's not breathing!"

The guard dithered, tantalising inches from the door then he made his decision, leapt inside and immediately tripped headlong over the string. Before the second guard could react, the Doctor whizzed his cricket ball at him, having to aim at his nose rather than his head due to the man's helmet. He doubled over and the two women pulled him in, neatly disarming him. While Tegan watched the door, the Doctor checked the two guards were not seriously hurt while the other two secured their wrists with the string.

"Let's get out of here!" the Doctor suggested, grabbing Adric and chivvying him along.

They sprinted down the corridor and out of the building. Tegan, who was in the lead, saw the Garden and headed towards it but the Doctor called her back, taking them down a different route.

"Where are we going? The TARDIS is – "

" – exactly where they will expect us to go once they realise we have escaped," the Doctor finished for her. He led them across a cobbled square and over a fence to a building Adric recognised: the Science Wing. "We don't have long before those guards free themselves and hit the alarm – certainly not enough time to get to the TARDIS."

"So where are we going?" Nyssa asked.

"Tell me," the Doctor asked, characteristically not answering her, "What happens to a pawn if it gets all the way across the chess board?"

"It is exchanged for a more powerful piece."

He treated them to a triumphant grin. "Exactly. Atropos has been one step ahead of us since the beginning and I don't know about you but I am tired of being his pawn. It's time we went on the offensive as the Americans would say." He tripped the lock to the Science Wing just as the alarm sounded.

Tegan stood on guard at the outer door to the Science Wing. Thankfully it was late at night so the building was empty but she knew it would be only a matter of time before Atropos worked out where they were. She pressed back into the shadows as a detachment of guards led by Lachesis crossed the courtyard and entered the building opposite.

Inside, the Doctor had tripped the lock to the Dimensional Reconfiguration Department and ushered his two friends inside. It was dark and Adric swore under his breath as he caught his knee on something. The Doctor raised an eyebrow at him, apparently having heard the swear word, and passed him his pen-torch.

Nyssa gazed round at the coffin-shaped TARDISes, a sudden nasty thought occurring to her. "Doctor, you're not thinking of stealing another TARDIS! That's terrible!"

He had been looking rather longingly at the sleek black machines but he tore his eyes away to give her an affronted look. "Of course not! I wouldn't dream of it – I don't agree with stealing!" He shrugged and added, "Anyway, they're locked isomorphically."

Adric sniggered from the door and when the Doctor glared at him, turned on his most innocent expression. "So what are we doing here?"

The Doctor backed away from temptation and began rifling through the junk and paperwork on the desk. "I saw it yesterday when we came in here." The two companions exchanged glances, well used to the Doctor's annoying habit of not answering questions properly.

"Saw what?"

"Mmm? Oh, a remote control device. If I can find it, I can remote pilot the TARDIS here." He stuck his hands in his pockets and regarded his two companions impatiently. "A little assistance would be appreciated – if you haven't anything better to do, that is!"

A few minutes passed in the search but still they couldn't find the device. The Doctor was now rummaging through drawers, muttering to himself while Adric was trying to unpick a locked filing cabinet with his Badge. Nyssa turned as she heard a noise from the corridor and saw Tegan creeping down it. "Doctor!" the air-hostess hissed. "Atropos is at the main entrance, he's working on the lock!" She nudged Nyssa and they began dragging a nearby computer bank in front of the department door.

"It's no good!" Adric said in frustration. "Perhaps one of the technicians took it with him."

At that moment there was a thudding at the door as Atropos hammered on it. "We know you're in there!"

"Well, obviously," Tegan muttered with volumes of sarcasm, looking for something else to wedge against the computer bank.

"If you give yourselves up now, you will be treated leniently."

"Except Adric!" she shouted back. "No deal, Atropos!"

There was silence for a second then the wall beside the door began to glow: Atropos was using a laser cutter. He had cut half a man-sized hole when the Doctor, who had been checking through lab coat pockets, gave a crow of delight and held up a small instrument. He glanced at the ever increasing hole and began to tap buttons feverishly. His three companions backed away from the door as the heat increased. To add to their problems the heat caused a number of small fires to kindle which in turn set off the sprinkler system and the smoke alarm.

The hole was completed and a booted foot sent the cut-out across the floor. Through the smoke and drenching downpour stepped Atropos with his usual entourage of guards behind him. Tegan and Nyssa put up their hands, backing in front of Adric. The Doctor continued his frantic activity, barely glancing up.

"This foolishness is at an end," Atropos pronounced, his guards fanning out in front of the companions. "True time will be restored. You are an aberration, Adric, a temporal tautology."

Before Adric or the Doctor could reply, the TARDIS materialised between them and their captors, giving them just enough time to scramble inside. As the Doctor was closing the doors, he couldn't help but hear Atropos's last remark: "You can't win, Doctor. You said it yourself, you can't fight fate."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

He was a hypocrite.

He had self-righteously fought Atropos's meddling with Gallifrey's destiny when he himself was trying to halt Adric's. Oh, he'd tried to convince himself and his friends that the two were entirely different, trotting out half-baked theories and generalities – that what was done was done, that altering one person's fate was entirely different from changing that of a whole planet.

For the last two weeks, since their escape from Gallifrey, he had been running away from this moment but, as Atropos had said, you can't fight fate. No more hiding, no more denial. He had come here to the Console Room in the dead of night while his three young companions slept the sleep of innocence to find out once and for all. All he had to do was open the viewscreen and he'd know.

Know whether Adric's presence could be accepted by true time with minimal disturbance or whether it would be catastrophic.

His hand touched the lever of its own volition and he snatched it away as though electrified. He couldn't do it. If he opened the viewscreen and saw what he feared, there could be no turning back and he would have to do his painful duty. He would have to condemn his friend to his fate.

It was so unfair! Adric was so young, full of promise and potential. From the moment he had appeared in the TARDIS, the Doctor had felt a singular connection and a deep conviction that this young man was special. He hadn't wanted to tempt fate by inviting Adric to become a member of the TARDIS crew but somehow he had known that that would happen. The Alzarian had stowed away and their destinies had entwined. Seeking to understand why he felt what he did, the Doctor had taken the unusual step (and strictly unethical one but then his last incarnation had been more tractable when it came to moral absolutes) of looking into Adric's future. And he had glimpsed the Mathematics University that his friend would found and the truly astonishing advances in mathematical technology that he would engineer.

A bright, sparkly future which had been cruelly snatched from him once by fate. It was time to see whether that bright hope was to finally become a certainty or nothing more than a mocking illusion.

He depressed the lever and raised his eyes to gaze upon the truth.

The nightmares continued to trouble Adric. He was being hunted down, pursued by the same merciless figure in black whom he now identified as Atropos. He ran down TARDIS corridors, panic lending strength to his flight but he could not escape. The figure strode after him, calm and inexorable, never changing its relentless pace, but no matter how fast he ran, it always seemed to be but a few paces behind him. He skidded round a corner and saw the Doctor before him. His friend was staring at the broken remains of his Badge, an expression of grief on his usually boyish face. He ran to him but the Doctor gazed at him sadly and began to fade, letting the fragments slip from his hands. He ran on, his fear increasing. He glimpsed the Console Room ahead of him and with renewed hope he ran for it, knowing he would be safe there. He gained the door and slammed it behind him. He turned round, only to see that the room had transfigured into the flight deck of the freighter. His pursuer entered from another door, unstoppable. There was nowhere to go. "You can't fight fate," his pursuer said, above the screech of the engines and Adric opened his mouth to scream.

He awoke with a cry, and for a moment lay there, beyond panic, beyond fighting, listening to the thud of his heart. Knowing from past experience that trying to get back to sleep would result only in further nightmares, he dragged his tired, achy body out of bed and fumbled into his clothes. Time for another nocturnal stroll round the Cloister Room. He was passing the Console Room when he caught a sound: that of the viewscreen opening. Curious, he looked inside to find the Doctor standing as if frozen, staring fixedly at the image of a ferny forest.

"Doctor?" He went over, touching his arm.

The Doctor appeared to rouse from his own nightmares. For a moment he stared at Adric as if his world had fallen apart then he dropped eye contact and fumbled to close the viewscreen. He paced once round the Console Room like a caged beast.

The Alzarian watched him, his companion's distraction doing nothing to chase away his own feeling of doom. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I couldn't sleep – nightmares again. I kept ending up on the freighter." He didn't miss the quick look his companion shot at him. "Doctor, what's the matter?"

The Doctor affected a bright smile. "Oh nothing, nothing. Just a few repairs."

"Avoidance tactics won't work, Doctor, not this time."

"This time," the Doctor echoed, dropping the act. He paced away, hands deep in his pockets, before pausing by the hat-stand to shrug into his coat. "Let's go for a walk," he said, avoiding Adric's troubled gaze. "It's still daylight here."

Adric followed him out, stopping to gaze in appreciation at the vista before them: a forest of twisted, primeval trees, covered in a mossy growth with an undergrowth of ferns, and in the near distance a large lake. The atmosphere was damp like a tropical rainforest. As they walked, they disturbed a family of frog-like creatures which were about the size of cats; they chirruped and hopped away. The Doctor stopped by the lake, watching a gliding beast with leathery wings as it flapped over the water, uttering a hooting cry. Despite the tranquillity, Adric did not feel comforted – there was an alien quality to the place which only added to his unease. He shifted closer to the Doctor.

The Doctor stirred and picked up a few pebbles, turning them over and over in his hands, amazed at their smoothness and composition. "Ripples on a pond," he said, breaking the silence. "Imagine time is like a lake: tranquil, deep. When time is altered, the universe can usually cope." He threw a small pebble into the lake. It hit the surface with a gentle plop, the water rippling in concentric circles. "It causes a few ripples but time sorts itself out. In the grand scheme of things, whether Joe Bloggs marries Jane Smith or Jan Smythe is not vitally important."

Adric nodded, catching on. "But sometimes a much larger disturbance occurs, like Atropos trying to alter Gallifrey's future."

"Exactly." The Doctor passed him a larger stone, the size of a bag of sugar. Adric hefted it and it hit the water with a large displacement of water and a gratifying splash. "Time cannot heal such breaches – and true time is affected enormously." He paused, obviously unwilling to continue. "Rescuing you didn't cause a few little ripples – it caused a tidal wave."

Adric glanced round at the prehistoric forest, a strange feeling like the beginning of knowledge stirring. For a second he was back on the freighter; whether the freighter of his dream or reality he couldn't tell. Swallowing hard, he made his voice work. "Where are we?"

The Doctor had come to stand behind him and now he rested his hands on his shoulders. "This is Earth, Adric: London, England in 1981."

He suddenly couldn't breathe. "This is what Earth looks like now? Because I'm not dead?"

"I'm sorry, Adric, I'm so sorry."

And suddenly, faced with irrefutable proof, he couldn't take it. He wrenched himself away from the Doctor, backing away like a cornered animal until he fetched up against the lake shore. The Doctor took a step towards him but he warded him off. "No! Don't touch me! I won't do it, I won't go back there." He could see the apparition of his nightmare walking towards him, leading him to his doom. Almost in a blind frenzy, he ran.

Giving Adric space, the Doctor returned to the Console Room. The Alzarian was currently perched on a rock by the lake, restlessly lobbing pebbles into its surface. The Doctor watched him on the viewscreen and felt useless - nearly a thousand years old and he didn't know how to comfort a frightened and hurting young man. He glanced away as the interior door opened to admit the two women who, fresh after a good night's sleep and unaware of the tragedy looming, were talking animatedly.

"G'day Doc!" Tegan greeted him. "How long have you been up – don't you Time Lords ever sleep?"

"Mmm? Sleep – no thank you." The women exchanged a long suffering look.

"Where's Adric? I can't believe he missed breakfast. Oh, he's there," Nyssa said, spying their companion on the viewscreen. "I'll call him."

The Doctor fumbled for the viewscreen, aware even as he did it how redundant the move was. "Leave him be. I need to talk to you both – this way." He chivvied the two along until they reached a rocky outcrop by the lake, a courteous distance from Adric but still within sight. Carefully avoiding eye contact, he explained where they were - and why.

"This is really Earth?" Tegan asked, fighting to take in the information.

"Definitely. Every point in time has an alternative. We radically changed Earth's history when we rescued Adric."

"But he's only one person! You said it was alright for him to be in this time stream. No use crying over spilt milk."

"And ordinarily I'd be right. But you have to understand …" He trailed off, finally confronting the fact that all along he had known that Adric didn't belong. He had wanted to believe, had stuck his head in the sand, unable to deal with his own guilt and anguish. He took a deep breath and continued: "It's the manner surrounding Adric's death. Had he died on some backwater planet, our rescuing him would probably be acceptable – if not ethical. But he died crashing into Earth, thus engineering that planet's evolution."

"No freighter equals no dinosaur extinction – and thus no human evolution," Tegan finished. A nasty thought occurred to her. "Dinosaurs! Big, hungry dinosaurs. Come on, we should get back to the TARDIS." She swept her nervous gaze over the quiet forest, expecting at any moment to see a Tyrannosaurus Rex come thundering towards them.

"Relax, Tegan," Nyssa said, "You forgot to add Chaos Theory to your equation."

Despite her concern, Tegan couldn't help rolling her eyes – now even Nyssa was getting technical on her. "Oh, that's what I was forgetting!" she replied sarcastically.

The Doctor gave a small smile though none of the worry left his eyes. "The Butterfly Effect," he explained, pointing to an insect that looked like a butterfly in every respect except its 5 foot wingspan. "The circumstances surrounding the freighter's crash had to be exact to cause Earth's evolution as we know it. Mass, velocity, locality. Change any of those factors, even by a negligible degree, and you alter the outcome." He explained at great length how, for example, changing the velocity would affect how the freighter entered the atmosphere which would affect where it crashed which in turn would affect how much damage it caused. "In this case, the change in mass caused by Adric's absence seems to have killed off the dinosaurs but brought about the ascendancy not of mammals and birds but amphibians and insects."

Tears welled up in Tegan's eyes and she dashed them away as her anguish turned as usual to anger. "This is my planet you're talking about, Doctor!"

"I know," he replied quietly.

But Tegan was shaking her head in denial. "Oh no! No, I won't – I won't choose between my planet's future and my friend!" And with that she stormed off, stumbling slightly in her high heels. There was an uncomfortable silence then Nyssa touched the Doctor's arm. He met her gaze, reading his own grief mirrored there and again he was struck by the inward strength of this young woman who had seen the death of her own planet as well as the transformation of her father into the most evil being imaginable.

"I'll talk to her," she said gently. "You should talk to Adric."

Fear, stomach churning fear, hounded him. He remembered the nightmares he had suffered, recognising them for what they truly were – foreshadows of his own doom. He tried to send his mind back to the freighter but he couldn't – the bile rose in his throat and his stomach did cartwheels. He was terrified, much more frightened than he had been the first time round. He smiled with a touch of gallows' humour – 'the first time round' made it sound like he made a habit of dying. Nevertheless it was true and he knew why: this time round he knew how much it would hurt. He knew how terrifying it was to have girders and falling masonry crash around you, how much it hurt to have your skin blister from the heat, and the agony, no other word for it, of pressure building until your eardrums burst. He knew what it felt like to gasp and gasp for oxygen that simply wasn't there. He knew just how unheroic dying an heroic death really was.

The idea of having to deliberately return to that freighter, not in ignorance but with full knowledge of the pain and terror, was laughingly inconceivable.

He wrapped his arms round himself, shivering violently although it was actually very warm. He understood his nightmares now – not just harmless images but foreshadows of his own doom. Whatever he did, wherever he went, his doom was waiting for him.

To take his mind off his fear, he skimmed a pebble across the lake's surface and smiled slightly in hurting reminiscence: Varsh had been able to skim a pebble clear across the Alzar, nine or ten bumps. Except that Varsh was dead. He heard the Doctor's voice carry on the wind, explaining relative time travel and temporal paradox to Tegan and Nyssa. If the lake was the fabric of time and throwing a pebble into it represented a break in time, then perhaps skimming a pebble was analogous to time travel.

He had been half-listening to his companions' conversation. He heard Tegan's angry words and tried to empathise (putting himself in someone else's shoes Tegan called it, although putting yourself in someone else's socks would be more logical) with what she must be going through. How would he feel if the circumstances were reversed? He would choose his friends over his planet, he knew, and then immediately questioned such an incisive conclusion. Would he? Could he condemn countless Alzarians to death just like that for the sake of Nyssa or Tegan or even the Doctor? One person against billions – even Tegan could work out the maths on that one.

Nyssa found Tegan sitting on a moss-covered, and rather damp, fallen tree; she had removed one of her shoes and was examining a blister on her heel. Her eyes were red and puffy and she had a ladder in her tights. Silently proffering her hand-embroidered hanky (Trakens considered disposable tissues to be vulgar), Nyssa perched next to her friend.

"Thanks," Tegan said at length with a watery smile. "One of these days I'm going to learn to put my brain in gear before my mouth."

"I rather admire your honesty," Nyssa admitted. "Tegan? This isn't the Doctor's fault."

Her companion turned the hanky over in her hands, admiring the delicate and intricate stitching of an orchid-like flower. "I can't embroider," she said, "Auntie Vanessa tried to teach me but I sewed the tablecloth to my skirt." Nyssa merely waited, not wanting to interrupt by admitting that the hanky had been a birthday present from Consul Katura. Tegan dabbed uselessly at her eyes, getting mascara on the hanky. "Don't you see, Nyssa, it wasn't the Doc's fault – it was mine!" Nyssa frowned in confusion but Tegan was continuing, her voice thick with tears that until now she hadn't allowed herself to shed. "I mean, on the freighter. It's my fault that Adric was forced to stay on board." She re-lived the incident: how she had been separated from the soldiers and ended up on the flight deck and how the Cyberleader had mocked the Doctor, threatening to kill her if the Time Lord didn't submit. In essence the Doctor had been forced to choose between his two companions. "It should have been me! I should be the one who died, not Adric!"

Nyssa put her arms round her friend, crooning reassurance and understanding. When Tegan seemed to more in control, the Traken said, "Adric told me it was his decision."

Tegan nodded, more tears pricking as she remembered how brave and … mature Adric had been – unlike her. It was rather humbling to admit that an eighteen year old had been more courageous, noble and loyal than her, a so-called adult. "It's my planet, Nys! He died to save my planet!"

Nyssa could feel her own tears welling and she retreated into the safe haven of logic. "I think you are missing the point, Tegan. Do you believe in fate? Although my father was a scientist, our culture is steeped in mysticism and tradition. Ritual and faith play a major part in our lives. I strongly believe that events happen for a reason – either as the out-workings of a deity or through the laws of cause and effect."

"Que sera sera," Tegan said, "the Doris Day effect."

Nyssa nodded, apparently taking her seriously. "It had to be Adric. You could not have solved the logic codes and therefore you could not have taken the freighter back in time to the extinction event. It was Adric's fate."

And now they were going to have to accept that that doom was still awaiting him.

"It might help to talk," the Time Lord said as he approached Adric and sat down on the same rock.

Adric gave a twisted smile and cranked up his anger. "Did you get that line from one of those soaps Tegan watches in the projection room?" He could feel his friend's steady gaze regarding him, like he was just another victim whom the Doctor needed to help.

"You have every right to be resentful – and frightened."

Immediately his pride pricked. "I am not frightened. I'm angry – with you! You promised! You said everything would be okay!"

"I know, I know." He should have been able to call upon the wisdom of the ages to comfort his friend, but all the Doctor could think of was "I'm sorry," and that sounded trite and worthless. It wasn't supposed to be like this: saving the galaxy was a lark; escaping by the skin of your teeth nothing more than an adrenaline surge. There had been pain and death but none of it had touched the Doctor, not like this. For the first time in centuries he was confronted by personal loss. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault. I should never have allowed you to stay on that freighter. Pride, you see – even Time Lords, especially Time Lords, are prone to the baser instincts." He recalled how the Cyberleader had goaded him and how he had responded indignantly to the taunts rather than allow himself to be made a fool of in front of the freighter's crew and his two companions. Looking back on it – and in the weeks that followed, he hadn't been able to stop himself from dissecting every second – it was obvious that the Cyberleader had made Adric remain behind as a way of getting even with the Doctor. In short, the Doctor's petty one upmanship had cost his friend his life. "I'm sorry," he said again.

Adric turned his anger on the Doctor; it wasn't fair but anything was better than having to face the terror that loomed. "I'm sick of hearing that. You know what? You're right! Everything's a joke to you – just a big adventure for you to play in." He could feel the tears running down his face, hear the shake in his voice, but he couldn't stop now. "Never mind that Nyssa lost her father and her planet because of one of your adventures; that Tegan lost her aunt. That I …" He trailed off, unable to get the words past the constriction in his throat.

Instead of rising to the bait, the Doctor said calmly, "You have to face this at some point, Adric."

"I can't!" Most of the anger had gone now, to be replaced by despair. "Not again. I know I'm a coward but I can't."

"You've been courageous in some pretty tight situations, I can't imagine you've changed that much. As I recall, you saved my life when Monarch was going to have me executed, putting your own life in danger."

"And I also believed his stupid schemes."

"You know, most people when they discover they have made an error of judgement attempt to hide it or excuse it – they very rarely admit their fault and make restitution. You did. I would say that shows great strength of character." The Doctor remembered how brave and resourceful Adric had been on the freighter, exhibiting a maturity and flare for leadership that made the Doctor's hearts ache: he would never see that potential realised, never know Adric as a fully grown adult.

Adric swiped at his eyes. "I don't want to die." He leaned against the Doctor's shoulder and the Time Lord put his arm round him. Together they watched the sun set and twilight turn to deepest night.

As he had discovered on many occasions, the TARDIS' architectural configuration was bewildering to say the least. Although the living area remained consistent, the rest of the ship had the disconcerting habit of shifting and changing. When he had needed a costume for the Cranleigh party, he had hunted high and low for the elusive wardrobe room, only to find it down a corridor that he knew he had methodically searched only a few minutes ago. Adric didn't know what he was looking for this time; all he knew was that something was niggling at him, not a compulsion but a vague restlessness - a vague restlessness that had had him wriggling all the way through 'It's A Wonderful Life' which he had been watching with the two women. Tegan had finally lost patience with him and he had beat a hasty withdrawal. He heard a door creak open and he crossed to peek inside, half expecting to see a circus or a jungle or at the very least an Egyptian pyramid. It wasn't – it was a study of some kind. There was a plush carpet on the floor, two snug arm chairs stood on either side of a polished table and shelves of leather-bound books lined all the walls. In the corner stood a ponderous clock whose gentle ticks seemed to match themselves to his heartbeat. On some instinctive level he realised that this was a private room, a personal room that was revealed to few.

He perused the shelves. He had always loved reading; on Alzarius he had spent practically all his leisure hours in the Great Book Room and he had felt he was in seventh heaven (one of Tegan's phrases although she never explained what had happened to the first six heavens) when the Doctor had introduced him to the TARDIS' vast library. This room appeared to house a personal collection of books. Without any real intention, except perhaps the same urge that had led him here in the first place, he picked up a mighty tome that looked vaguely familiar. He blew the dust off and flipped it open, immediately realising why it looked familiar – it was one of the Doctor's journals that they had looked through before Traken. Agreeably titillated, he sunk down into the chair and began to read.

The clock chimed the passage of one then two hours but Adric remained glued to his book, partly because he had always enjoyed his friend's outrageous adventures and partly because they drew him closer to the eccentric, wild-eyed Doctor whom he had lost. His imagination soared as he read about a big robot with (it appeared) a crush on Sarah Jane and the Sontaran experiments on Earth captives. Despite a vague feeling of jealousy which he was able to dismiss, he found he rather liked the Doctor's companions – Sarah Jane came across as feisty and witty while he saw Harry as a kindred spirit, if only because he realised Harry had occasionally exasperated the fourth Doctor, just as Adric knew he himself frustrated the fifth.

He turned the page, beginning to read about the Doctor's tussle with the Daleks. Adric had always taken his friend's stories about these glorified pepper pots with more than a pinch of cynicism: they seemed remarkably silly, not at all menacing. Reading the Doctor's first-hand account had him radically changing his opinion. He read how the Doctor entombed Davros in a fortified bunker where the Daleks turned on their creator, destroying him. It was quite a roller-coaster ride and by the end his heart was thumping as if he had been there with Sarah and Harry. He turned the page expecting to see a new adventure but finding instead a post script. The tone here was much more sombre and reflective:

'_Today I was gifted with a golden opportunity to destroy the Daleks, wipe them from existence at their very conception and I found I couldn't.' _

Adric frowned in confusion. The Doctor had said the Daleks killed thousands of people, enslaved a whole race of humans – how could he justify letting them live if he had such a providential opportunity? He read on, the post script almost seeming to talk directly to him:

'_Unlike a mathematical equation, life is seldom easy. The Daleks are a terrible race but it is because of their malevolence that the free peoples will unite, agreeing to stop their own petty wars and skirmishes to fight their common enemy. Technology on many worlds will develop at a greater rate because of the Dalek threat. I could name hundreds of medical and scientific advances that will come about directly as a result of the Dalek war. I know I have made the correct decision, painful though it is. _

_Despite their evil, their creation will cause a greater good.'_

Adric felt his heart flip, the words seeming to resonate deeply. And just like he had solved the last logic code, things fell smoothly into place and he knew what he had to do: return to the freighter.

A greater good.

He found the Doctor, as he had anticipated, in the Cloister Room. He had been pacing, as had become his habit of late, but he paused at Adric's approach. Something unspoken passed between the two men and the Doctor's shoulders sagged: he knew what Adric had decided.

They sat on the stone bench, each fighting his inner demons. Eventually Adric broke the quiet of the room by saying, "I knew, you know." The Doctor didn't interrupt him, gifting him with a listening silence as he tried to unravel his thoughts. "From the moment you rescued me, it felt wrong. Like I didn't belong here anymore." He fiddled with the hated zero bracelet which served as a constant reminder of the fact. There was, he supposed, a certain irony in his situation: as an Outler he had been an outcast from Alzarian society; as a citizen of E-Space he had been a foreigner in N-Space – and now he was an outsider from time. The ultimate pariah. He leaned against his friend's shoulder and the Doctor slipped an arm round him, the two of them lapsing into silence. There was grief and anguish but there was also a sense of acceptance.

The Doctor indicated the journal Adric had brought with him. "I see you found the study. I thought I sensed you there." Adric raised an eyebrow, but didn't pursue the issue. The Time Lord flicked through the journal and sighed, looking off into the middle distance as if re-living the past. "A man is the sum of his memories, a Time Lord even more so."

"What happened to Sarah and Harry?" Adric felt a definite connection to the Doctor's companions, as if knowing their fate would help him face his own. "They were from Earth?"

"Yes. Harry was a Navy doctor. I met him whilst recovering from my third regeneration. He travelled with me for a few months but he much preferred the quieter life of UNIT. Sarah Jane stowed away on the TARDIS – she was a journalist, you know. She travelled with me for quite a long time. I took her back to her home when things got … complicated." Adric was under no doubt that the Doctor wished he had taken his current companions home, or at least somewhere safe, before things got complicated with the Cybermen. He was continuing, his voice steady but very sad. "I made her a K9 - as a parting gift, you might say. I was always rather fond of Sarah."

As a Time Lord, his was a unique perspective: he walked in eternity as his former incarnation had put it so poetically. He could live (potentially) for thousands of years, literally through the corridors of time, and yet the lives of his companions were as fleeting as dust in the wind. The transient nature of his relationship with them was something that he had never quite got used to. Some stayed for only a year, others longer but each time a new companion arrived, he had to wrestle with the knowledge that in far too brief a time, they would leave him.

He had always played something of the father figure to the often emotionally-wounded people who came to share his life, providing guidance and wisdom until they felt sufficiently confident to strike out on their own. Some married; others, like Romana, stayed behind to help some worthwhile cause, and however sad he was at yet another youngster flying the nest, there was always the conviction that destiny had been fulfilled. He had seen Jamie and Victoria, and Ben and Polly, Sarah and Leela – all of them - go off to leave happy and fulfilled lives. That was not, however, and never had been Adric's destiny.

Seeking to guide his young friend through the emotional turmoil without forcing his choice, he spoke again: "I'm a firm believer in destiny. Each of my companions has entered my life with a specific purpose. A path."

"But I stowed away," Adric began. He trailed off in confusion, both at the Doctor's raised eyebrow and his own sudden recollection of something he had said to Varsh the morning of Mistfall, before he had met the Doctor: that he knew his destiny lay elsewhere than on the Starliner.

The Doctor winked, a twinkle in his eye. "Did you? You're a mathematician, Adric, calculate the odds – the TARDIS is flung off course through a CVE into another universe, lands on your planet just as Mistfall descends. You stow away – despite K9's vigil and the TARDIS' security mechanisms. My former self does not take the opportunity to return you to the Starliner after the incident with the Great Vampire. We return to N-Space, something no other craft has managed to do, and you die crashing into an alien planet, hundreds of thousands of light years from the planet of your birth, thus engineering a significant moment in that alien planet's evolution. See?"

It was something Adric had never really considered before but now that the Doctor mentioned it, it was obvious – he had been born specifically to die on Earth. There was no other mathematical explanation. Rather than appearing spooky or imprisoning, he found the revelation to be somewhat comforting. All his life he had felt like an outsider without a definite home or sense of belonging.

The Doctor too was thinking about Adric's fate – not his cosmic significance but the Alzarian's relevance on a more personal level: He would die on the home planet of Tegan; of Harry and Sarah and so many other former companions; and on the favoured planet of the Doctor himself. Fate fulfilled: one companion sacrificing his life to bring about the existence of the others.

"Doctor?" Adric's voice brought him out of his reverie. "You know what you said by the lake on alternate Earth – about what happened on the freighter?" The Time Lord nodded, his sense of guilt was with him constantly. In fact, in some ways he longed for the chance to regenerate in the hopes that the transformation would heal the anguish. Adric was continuing, "I was thinking and I think you were wrong."

The Doctor gave a slight smile at their sudden role reversal. "Oh? I left you to die."

"It wasn't your fault," Adric insisted and the Doctor was struck by the confidence in his young friend's voice. "I chose my path. I could have left with Captain Briggs and the others in the life boat but I decided not to – my decision. I slipped out of the airlock as it was closing to carry on working on the logic codes. I had a chance to escape and I didn't take it."

The Doctor closed his eyes at the revelation. "Why, Adric?"

Adric shrugged. "A greater good." This appeared to be a time for confidences, for communion. "I wanted to save Earth. It was my decision then and it's my decision now."

The Doctor turned his friend round so he could look into his eyes and rested his hands on his shoulders. "Adric, you have to be sure." Despite knowing in his hearts that his friend's decision was the right one, he couldn't help but fight it – Earth's future notwithstanding, he wanted to save Adric. "You don't have to do this. You are quite at liberty to deny destiny. With the zero bracelet in place, you can live a full life in this reality. We may know that this is a 'wrong' time line but it is the 'real' time line right now. To all intents and purposes Earth developed with amphibians and insects – it's only our foreknowledge that dictates that that is wrong." He took a deep breath for personal discussion was still difficult but this was so important. "You don't have to prove yourself to me."

Adric had the grace to blush, some of his old insecurities surfacing. The Doctor could read him too easily. If he were honest, and this appeared to be the time for it, he had to admit there had been a measure of that last time. He had wanted the Doctor to be proud of him. Perhaps even to win the Doctor and Tegan's love. With everything that had happened, talking to the Doctor, spending time with Tegan, he had come to realise something: he didn't need to earn their love. "I know," he said and meant it. If only he had acknowledged that truth months ago, their time together might not have been quite so rocky. "Doctor? How would you feel if you had destroyed the Daleks? Greater good, remember. I made the right decision once, all I am doing now is fulfilling that promise. Not because I don't have a choice, because I have been trapped – but because I do have a choice."

The Doctor was smiling at him with affection and pride. Adopting a deliberately jolly tone to cover the shake, he said, "In case I haven't made it clear to you, Adric, I am very proud of you – always have been."

Adric looked away, blinking furiously and nodded. "When? When do we do it?" He tried to say it casually, ignoring the well of fear that coiled in his belly.

"Two weeks." It was an arbitrary period of time but would give them all time to accept the inevitable.

Sucking in a deep breath, Adric summoned up a shaky smile. "That settles it. Now we can go somewhere with comfy seats and you can tell me about Jamie and Victoria."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

The next two weeks were artificial and rather awkward as the companions struggled to come to terms with the fate that awaited Adric. Tegan had been through something similar when her uncle had been diagnosed with cancer. She had been very young at the time but she remembered the air of expectancy and the long three month holiday her family took so they could travel round the world with her uncle before his strength deserted him; she remembered the way people spoke in hushed voiced and how they never alluded to the future directly.

They travelled the universe in those final weeks and Tegan stored up memories greedily. She would catch herself studying the Alzarian, trying to memorise his mannerisms and idiosyncrasies. She dusted off her sketch pad and would often sit in the evenings translating their adventures to paper. Sometimes the waiting, the sense of a doom they couldn't escape, would get too much for one of them. Tegan often woke to hear Nyssa crying and she knew Adric spent a lot of time in the Cloister Room, sometimes alone, reading, sometimes with the Doctor.

The pressure built. Beforehand Adric had never been overly fond of physical activities, preferring to stick his nose in a book rather than master the hand eye co-ordination of tennis or the balance of ice skating. Now he seemed willing, eager even, to absorb every new experience. Nyssa was currently teaching him a complicated Traken dance. Tegan watched, idly sketching them, trying to ignore the Doctor who kept offering her advice.

"More shading down there," he said and suddenly it was too much for her. She let the pad slump on her lap, feeling the tears that had never been far from the surface well up again.

"This waiting is terrible! I wish he'd just get on with it!" The words were barely out of her mouth when she realised what she'd said and immediately felt like a murderer. The Doctor picked up her charcoal for her, waiting her out with remarkable composure. When she had got herself back under control, she tried a different tack, re-starting one of the many debates they had had in the last few weeks when she or Nyssa would conjure up some often ludicrous way to save Adric. "I still don't understand why Adric has to be there on the freighter in person." As was usual for the companions, Tegan did not confront the issue head on, resorting to one of the many euphemisms they had adopted. "And don't give me a lecture on the Butterfly Effect either – I know that. Why can't we substitute a dummy or something that weighs his mass?"

She was grateful for the fact that the Doctor didn't drop into lecture mode: many things had changed. He answered her like she was a sensible, intelligent woman instead of a half-wit who had to be humoured. "It's not that simple. It's not just a matter of mass – any factor can affect the outcome. It might be that where Adric was standing will affect how the freighter crashes – I know it sounds unbelievable but that's the nature of this Effect."

"There's really no other way?"

"Every minute of every day I try to think of another option."

"You haven't taken him back yet – so why can't you do so later. A lot later, say when he's lived his life." Her voice was thick with tears. "Does it have to be now?"

"Soon, Tegan, soon." He sighed deeply. It was tempting to put off the moment indefinitely, allow Adric to live a full life and only return him to fulfil his destiny at the end. But the Doctor knew that however much he wanted to do that, it was not possible. Adric could get killed during one of their adventures – for the Doctor was not now so trusting of his companions' invulnerability as he had once been. Even if he settled on some planet, he could still walk under a bus, or whatever the appropriate metaphor for accidental death was. If he died in any other way than on that freighter, Earth's future would remain unrectified. And the longer they left the decision, the harder it would inevitably be to face.

He pulled out of his reverie to meet Tegan's troubled gaze. "Tegan, I know this is very difficult for all of us … But don't … don't make him doubt himself." Tegan felt the colour rise to her cheeks. He patted her arm almost in benediction. "He's made his decision – a courageous decision. What we have to do is support him, guide him."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what the Doctor would have done if Adric hadn't come to the right decision; some things she just didn't dare know. Where did the Doctor's ultimate responsibility lie? If Adric had decided not to sacrifice himself (another great euphemism) would the Doctor have dragged him, kicking and screaming to his fate or would he have respected his decision at the cost of all those millions of lives?

The Doctor was continuing, "See this as a second chance. Most people don't get the opportunity to say goodbye to their loved ones before they die – you do."

He was right of course. And not just that – these weeks had given her the chance to really get to know her Alzarian companion. She had done a lot of soul-searching recently, letting go of a lot of guilt but also acknowledging things that she had kept buried. Last time, the majority of her grief had been misplaced. She had felt guilty at leaving Adric on the freighter but also at the way she had treated him beforehand. In fact, if she was brutally honest with herself, she had to admit that she hadn't really liked him. She had never made time to find out what made him tick and knew very little of his background. She saw him as an opinionated, monumentally sexist kid who was an intellectual bully, always looking down his nose at Tegan's career and her education. It wasn't pleasant but she admitted that what she had called grief was mostly anger and guilt. She hadn't really missed Adric, the person, she hadn't mourned him for who he was. This time around, she had the opportunity to make amends, to face the guilt and, most importantly, to get to know the young man (no longer a boy in her eyes) whom she would lose forever. A young man who was savagely loyal with a gentle, tender side. What she had taken as sexism and arrogance, she now read correctly as insecurity. It was a deeply humbling experience.

Nyssa was calling her over. She wiped away her tears, cranked up a smile and joined her two friends in their dancing.

By unspoken agreement, they had mainly visited Earth during those last weeks of Adric's life. That day they had materialised the TARDIS in a lush green meadow. Behind them loomed the snow capped mountains of the Alps but here it was still summer. The grass grew to their knees and gave off the most aromatic scent as they waded through it. Wildflowers grew in abundance and an eagle soared high above. It was very peaceful. After their walk, they sat for hours chatting and thinking and gazing at the beauty around them. As evening began finally to fall, Adric walked a little apart from his friends to watch the sun set. He watched the goatherd miles below round up his flock and take them back to the picturesque village he could see nestled below the crag; he watched the eagle glide back to its nest and he watched the sun sink gradually behind the snowy peaks, bathing them gold and pink.

Two weeks, the Doctor had given them but, watching the spectacle, Adric felt in his heart that this was the last sunset he would see. He drank it in, smiling in awe but it was a smile tinged with grief and a hint of wistfulness. Tonight, he promised himself, I'll do it tonight. And I'll do it alone.

The image of prehistoric Earth mesmerised him just as it had all those weeks ago. The planet looked peaceful, serene, with just a few clouds drifting over the midnight blue oceans and proto-continent and yet in just a few minutes its destiny would be drastically altered.

He yanked his mind away from that particular thought and concentrated on keying in the last few co-ordinates. He was about to hit the final materialisation sequence to materialise the TARDIS on the freighter's flight deck when the door of the Console Room opened and the Doctor entered. Carefully rehearsed excuses fled; all Adric could do was stare at his friend in misery. "Please," he said at last, the strain very clear in his voice, "I have to do this."

"I know," the Doctor murmured quietly, "but not alone. You see, I knew you were going." That evening he had watched Adric watching the sunset and he had known. When the younger man had finally gone to bed, he had hugged and kissed the two women as if he would never see them again – which of course he wouldn't. And he had shook hands with the Doctor. His eyes alighted on the remote control device Adric was holding. He shook his head, an affectionate smile touching the edges of the grief. "You woke me up from my feigned sleep, stealing that. I assume you need it to dematerialise the TARDIS once you'd left. I thought we'd agreed stealing was wrong, young man?"

"You can talk – you stole it from the Astrology Department."

The Doctor pretended to ignore that. Their conversation was strained, pseudo-casual, like there was an unspoken pact between them not to go into deep issues. "You know, if you are going to steal, at least do it quietly."

"I'll remember that in the future," Adric said and then looked like he wanted to swallow his tongue when he realised what he had said. The Doctor took a step towards him, wanting to offer comfort but he waved him away. He turned his back on his friend deliberately, his eyes drawn once again to the image of the Earth. "There are some letters over there; for you three – and Romana. Will you … you know." He trailed off, unable to finish.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "I'll make sure she gets it, I promise." He picked up the letters, more for something to occupy his hands than anything else. A white pawn dropped from the pile. He picked it up, raising an interrogative eyebrow. Adric managed a smile.

"That's for Atropos. Tell him 'checkmate.'" At the Doctor's look of confusion, Adric shrugged. "I worked out a way to undo my previous computations. All the details are in the TARDIS' memory banks. True time will be restored, despite Atropos's interference, and Gallifrey's CVE will malfunction. You can't fight fate."

The Doctor stared at him then he smiled, a smile of sore pride. "Well done, Adric," he murmured.

Adric's gaze slid away. "You're right, life isn't as simple as a mathematical equation. It wasn't an easy decision to make."

"The greater good?" There was a sense of completeness to what Adric had done – the helpless white pawn restoring the destinies of two planets.

"Exactly." Adric continued after another pregnant pause, "Tell the others – I couldn't say goodbye."

"They'll understand." Perhaps it was best this way. Intuitively the Doctor knew Adric wouldn't be able to take a tearful goodbye. He sucked in a deep breath, getting himself under control – Adric needed him to be strong, to guide him. He approached him and again Adric tried to ward him off. "Not this time." He caught Adric's arms until he stilled. "I told you, you're not doing this alone. Look at me." He gave him a gentle shake, forcing him to make eye contact. He pressed his fingers to Adric's temples, creating a telepathic link. When he eased away, with an awkward squeeze to the arm, he said, "The mental link will help you with the pain."

"Thanks. I … I know you can't knock me out." The Butterfly Effect dictated that every factor had to be exact; Adric had to be free to act instinctively in the way he had acted the first time – even where he fell could affect the freighter's plight. He watched with a sense of unreality as the Doctor began the materialisation sequence, hovering the TARDIS a few feet above the flight deck's floor so its mass would not be detected. Adric could hear the blood pounding in his ears. A greater good, he told himself, repeating the phrase like a litany. He conjured up an image of that last sunset, how beautiful it had been. He thought of Tegan, of Richard Mace and all the other Earthlings he had met. A greater good.

"Adric?"

He forced himself to look one last time at the man who had been his mentor, friend and surrogate father. The Doctor was holding out his hand, just as he had that first time. There was so much Adric wanted to say but he couldn't. The two men shook hands.

"Goodbye Adric."

He walked resolutely to the doors, paused and then turned back to the Doctor. He fumbled for his Badge, removed it and slipped it into the Doctor's hand. "Goodbye Doctor."

The Doctor had never felt so useless and helpless in all his lives. He had to watch his friend die. It went against every instinct but he had to stand there and allow it to happen. And there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop him or save him.

He felt every scream, every gasping breath, blanketing his friend's pain. It was not a slow death but it was a painless one. When it was all over, he opened his hand to stare at the Badge nestled there. Once whole, it was now shattered. He touched it gently and then with a deep breath, he made for the inner door to wake his companions.


	6. Names

In case anyone is interested, I chose the names of the CIA agents carefully. They are named after two out of the three Roman Fates. According to the Roman myth, all living things must eventually submit to these divine daughters of Zeus and Themis. Life is woven by Clotho (whom I decided not to include in my story), measured by Lachesis and finally, in a very literal sense, the thread of life is cut by Atropos.


End file.
